Case Closed
by MickeyNoMouse
Summary: Based on Gosho Aoyama's series "Cased Closed" ("Meitantei Conan"). This story is not related to the Cased Closed series and, therefore, is non official database. Most of the characters displayed in this story are originally Aoyama's or based on them. This is a fictional story. Any resemblance with reality or another works is a coincidence… or not.
1. Prologue

**Case Closed**

Based on Gosho Aoyama's series "Cased Closed" (" _Meitantei Conan_ ").

This story is not related to the Cased Closed series and, therefore, is non official database.

Most of the characters displayed in this story are originally Aoyama's or based on them.

This is a fictional story. Any resemblance with reality or other works is a coincidence... or not.

 _ **000**_

Prologue

There was something out there. He could swear. He could feel it in the air, the thick, rusty air.

Never, he thought, in all the years he'd been a criminal, he would imagine he'd be trapped in a situation like that: the chaser, chased. It was like a bad joke. The worst of all jokes.

He saw it: that _thing_ was not human. It had ripped up the door of his van with one hand! And after that it almost killed him right there, with the sirens of the police cars a few blocks away. Luckily, he was fast enough to slipper into the other seat and escape. The image flashed in his head: the chaser standing next to the van, still holding the door and looking at him with a confused face. As if it was asking him: _"why are you running? Don't you see it's no use?"_ However, the man –the chaser- didn't make a move to stop him. Ten minutes later, the criminal was hid behind a corner, ready to run if the thing appeared again.

\- Ya'll see, monster – he mumbled to himself while pulling a gun out of his coat. – Ya're so dead!

Suddenly, he felt it again: the air.

\- Contrariwise.

* * *

\- So… who's the victim?

Superintendent Megure was beginning to tense up. This was mayor business: one of the most wanted abductor, terrorist and hired murderer of the country had been assassinated in his prefecture and the chief superintendent Odagiri was there to supervise the investigation.

He knew perfectly well who the victim was. He just wished his corpse had appeared elsewhere.

\- His name is Jun Tomoaki, alias _Shadow_ – answered detective Takagi. – He's wanted for murder, abduction, drug and weapon traffic… The list is long.

\- Well, what happened to him?

\- Superintendent – spoke one of the forensic staff. – The homicide weapon is the victim's own gun.

\- What? Suicide?

\- I don't think so, insp- Oh, sorry! It's the habit – inspector Miwako Takagi approached the men. – I think the aggressor was quick enough to take the gun from the victim's hands and shot him.

\- It's so nice to see you again, Sat- My fault! Mrs. Takagi – Megure chuckled a little. – Please, go on.

\- Yes. The victim's vehicle was three blocks away. The wheels had very big holes on them and the driver's door was ripped up and a few feet away. Until now, we haven't found any fingerprints, footprints, witnesses… anything.

Megure avoided the inspector and crouched next to the corpse. A noise behind his back made him turn to see the crane transporting the damaged vehicle and when he saw the door, his suspicions where confirmed.

He so wished Jun Tomoaki hadn't died in Tokyo.

 _ **000**_

 **Ooook, so... this story takes place (assuming that the year Shinichi originally shrunk was 1996 and he was 16 then, based on the manga) twelve years later, which means 2008. I might make historical mistakes, but I'll try to reduce them to the minimum.**

 **Also, I'd like to warn you, readers, that this story is going to go veeery slowly. So unless you are hextremely patient people, I wouldn't recommend you read this.**

 **Thanks for clicking! Sincerely,**

 _ **Mickey**_


	2. A three-faced coin

Chapter 1: a three-faced coin.

\- Here you go.

\- Thank you.

Detective Wataru Takagi paid and walked back to the bank where his wife was sit with an ice cone in each hand.

\- Here: vanilla for you and mint for… where is Misa?

He looked around desperately but he couldn't see the kid.

\- Don't worry, honey, she is probably playing with other children – said Miwako, taking the ice cream from him. Her husband sat with her, now less nervous.

\- I know I shouldn't freak out so much, but I can't help it. She's just five, after all.

\- Ah, I remember my childhood. What a blast! – Miwako smiled widely before making a disgusted gesture. – A classmate put strawberry gum in my hair.

Wataru looked at her hair. It was pretty long now, beyond the shoulders. She used to hold it in a ponytail, like in that moment. Miwako never liked putting make-up on, but right then she wore a light lipstick and a thin eye line. He didn't understand why she had to do that when they went to the park or to their daughter's school, even when, last time he asked, she told him that it wasn't correct to go to a parents reunion looking like a cop.

\- You always look great, but I still think short hair is kind of your thing.

\- And what does that mean, exactly? – replied her in a slightly angry tone.

The argument was forgotten when a five-year-old girl with short, dark-brown hair and a green dress ran into her mother's arms, almost making the woman drop the vanilla cone on her.

\- Misa! Careful, dear.

\- Papa, ice cream!

The little one made gestures with her hands and before she got exasperated, her father complied. As soon as she got what she wanted, she ran away as fast as she came.

\- Prepare to clean the stain out of her dress – warned Wataru.

\- Do you really think I don't know what this is heading to? – joked his wife.

She put a notebook and a pen out of her handbag and tried to keep an eye on her daughter while reading.

\- Ok, so… I investigated a little bit about Tomoaki yesterday. Beside the fact that we don't have any suspects or clues, we also don't know where he came from or where he was going to when the van was intercepted; still don't know how the murderer managed to do those holes, too. Lately, Tomoaki was a lot more careful when it came to cover his steps…

\- Not that he wasn't before.

\- Yeah – Miwako sighed. – But searching deeper, I found out that this murder might not be random.

\- What do you mean?

\- Didn't you notice? – she asked. – Criminals are being very elusive this year. There are rumors that some mafia or criminal syndicate boss is seeking for revenge. If that's true, there must be more cases similar to Tomoaki's.

Detective Takagi laughed.

\- You know, you are my boss now, inspector Takagi. Searching for information about the bad guys is supposed to be my job.

\- Yes, but I've always been good at it – she stood up and gave a little peck on the lips to her husband before leaving to find Misa.

* * *

Jûzô Megure was in his office although it was getting dark. Even risking an argument when he got home, he wanted to check something before leaving the building. There was a pile of newspaper articles about cases still unsolved over his desk.

A rich man, a non-identified murderer... actually, most of them were unidentified. The first crime had occurred ten years ago: Kenzo Masuyama, 71 years old. He was shot and then locked in a burning cellar. The alcohol boxes had several shots too, the liquor was spread everywhere and the same cigarette the victim was smoking was the one starting the fire.

Like in the case of Jun Tomoaki, there were no clues in the crime scene, not a single fingerprint or witness. And that kept happening once or twice a year for the past ten.

But as time passed by, at least for Megure, it became more evident that, even without names, the victims had something in common. Curiously, all of them were wearing black clothes the moment they were assassinated, all killed with different weapons, presumably their own guns, just like Tomoaki. And the strangest thing about those cases was that they didn't happen exclusively in Tokyo, even in Japan: cases with the same characteristics where reported in England and America *****.

And there was the door incident. The rest of the police department may have thought of it as something out of the ordinary, but for Superintendent Megure it was one more of the identity signs of the assassin: he or she -most probably _he_ \- performed unbelievable achievements like ripping doors out of cars as if they were the leaves of a cabbage. In one occasion, two years after the first murder, he witnessed how somebody, maybe the murderer, took down a helicopter with a helmet. The police found the crashed helicopter and the weapon, but the forensic staff assured the, back then, inspector that the helmet should have been thrown with a speed of at least 50km/h to cause such damage.

Megure rubbed his face in exhaustion and frustration. He was getting hungrier within the minutes; all he wanted was to go home and try his wife's delicious dinner.

The murderer was a professional; that was crystal clear. However, the fact that he worked alone surprised and altered the Superintendent. How could this person commit such impossible murders, not leave any proof in the crime scene and then disappear like a ninja until he decided to kill again? And who the hell where all those men he killed? Some of them were criminals as well, like Tomoaki, but almost all the rest were unknown corpses that no one claimed.

Infuriated, with the assassin and with himself, he made up his mind that it was enough for the day. He took his coat and briefcase, putting the articles back inside, and walked down the hall. He had to hurry if he wanted to be in time to have his wife's hot dinner and not a reprimand for being late.

In his way home, he passed by a new ramen restaurant that was becoming very popular in no time. Per chance, he looked inside, only to recognize five familiar faces sit by a table.

* * *

In the restaurant, most of the clients couldn't help but look at the table that was next to the window. Five high-school students occupied it, and honestly speaking, they were arguing so loud they were annoying the rest of the customers. But when any of them got to the resolution of shutting them up and turned to face them, he or she stayed put in the seat, observing them.

\- WELL, I SAY WE DO SOMETHING! – shouted the biggest of the group. He had very short, dark hair, and was by far the most annoying of them all, as he spoke every word in a yell.

\- Calm down, Genta – said the girl next to him. She had mid-long brown hair and used a hair band. Her attire consisted in pink and white clothes. – Of course, we are doing something: the Detective Boys must investigate the case at any cost!

\- The question is: how are we going to avoid the police? – asked the second male of the table, sitting next to the girl. His hair was longer than the big teenager's and lighter than hers, and his high was in the way between the two. – These past times, they have been less permissive than ever, they didn't even let us go into the crime scene… Well, none of us but you, guys.

At the table, there were two more people. They both wore black leather jackets and silvery trimmings, like chains and jewelry, but it wasn't a full gothic style either. Their clothes looked expensive, they had modern haircuts and, suiting their appearance, both seemed uninterested in their fellows' conversation. They were holding hands, the boy pretending to look for something in the menu and the girl pretending to look at the time in her watch.

\- At least defend yourselves – said the first girl, who was sitting in front of the boy. She interiorly begged him to answer, but all she got was silence, not even a glance.

\- Leave it, Ayumi! – Genta exclaimed. – The boss is me, so I give the orders. It doesn't matter what they can have to say. You agree, right, Mitsuhiko?

\- For once, I do – the appealed said.

\- Then it's settled! – Genta threw his fist to the air. – Now, we only have to think of a way of infiltrating in the police investigation to gather information.

The yells continued, but at that point, almost all the customers were more interested in the silent couple sitting with the noisy teens. They certainly were good-looking, seemed to be from a good family and were clearly more mature than their three friends were. Way more mature. In fact, if they had been sitting in another table, they would have passed as college students. However, when the three kids were not looking, they would raise their heads a bit, look at them and smile on the sly.

The argument was leading to illegal solutions in order to obtain the cops' files. That meant it was time to intervene.

\- Don't be so drastic, guys – interrupted the boy in a serene, soft voice. – If you really want to know, I can ask inspector Takagi myself.

\- Don't be silly! – barked Mitsuhiko. – We all are friends with Miss Sato, but this time the case is being directed by Superintendent Megure, and you know as well as we do that he only trusts you. What's more, that means the information is strictly confidential and he will tell you not to spit it out.

\- Then I'm guessing it's over for you – he replied in a calmed tone. – Too bad.

\- Are you seriously thinking we are backing of?! – screamed Genta. – Cause' if you are, you don't know us!

\- Believe me – he finished – I know you so well that sometimes I wish I didn't know you; at all.

\- _¿Por qué te molestas?*_

The boy turned his head to the girl sitting next to him.

\- _No escucharán, no importa lo que digas._

\- _Lo sé_ – he answered. – _Pero me gusta tomar parte en sus locos juegos._ _¿A ti no?_

\- _Por supuesto que no_ – she proclaimed with an outright voice.

He gave his companion a wide smile, the kind of seductive smile he kept just for her. The girl rolled her eyes but finally returned the gesture.

\- Anyway, guys! – Genta cached the attention of the full restaurant again. – We forgot the main reason we came here tonight: DISCOUNT IN THE DAILY MENU FOR STUDENTS!

 ** _000_**

 *** In this version of the story, Gin eliminates Tequila and the man in movie 5 (countdown to heaven), but none of the other men in black (Pisco, Irish...).**

 _* The conversation in English would be this:_

 _\- Why do you bother?_

» _They won't listen, no matter what you say._

 _\- I know. But sometimes I like taking part in their crazy games. Don't you?_

 _\- Of course not._


End file.
